


Countdown

by SummerFrost



Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: "Happy" Birthday Kenny, Brief Mentions of Jack's OD, M/M, They're sad, Week Two - July Holidays, canon-typical alcohol use
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-30
Updated: 2016-06-30
Packaged: 2018-07-19 06:28:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 849
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7348909
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SummerFrost/pseuds/SummerFrost
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kent Parson spends three years of birthdays asking for Jack Zimmermann. Jack gives what he can; sometimes it's enough.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Countdown

**Author's Note:**

> This is for week two of the OMGCP Trope Challenge, July Holidays!
> 
> I cheated and wrote about Kent's birthday, which counts right?? It counts. Kent Parson is a national treasure.
> 
> Thanks to my real life brot3, calypso-mary and alpha_exodus for always encouraging me and my crippling addiction to this webcomic.
> 
> I love this Check, Please! so much and I will babble with you about it [on Tumblr <3](http://yoursummerfrost.tumblr.com/), especially about PB&J.

It’s July 4th, 2007, just past midnight. The music is too loud and Kent is too drunk. Jack’s hair is doing that thing where it flops in his face and Kent wants to touch it.

“Hey, Kenny, what do you want for your birthday?” Jack leans in close to ask, too close, and his hand is pressed up against the wall right near Kent’s face and Kent wants to brush his cheek across it. He can feel Jack’s breath, warm and beer-tinted, on his face and it’s hard to think when Jack is like this, drunk and friendly and warm and _close_ , and Kent wants. He wants so badly and he’s never asked.

“You, Zimms.” Kent tilts his head to the side and presses his cheek against the hand on the wall. It’s the scariest thing he’s ever done.

Jack’s eyes go wide and too blue. He leans in closer instead of pulling away. Everything goes a little misty for Kent, and he wonders if he’s passed out on someone’s couch and this is a dream and he’ll wake up alone with nothing but morning wood and dicks drawn on his face. Jack nudges his lips up against Kent’s ear and murmurs, “Okay.”

They stumble up the stairs in fits of nervous laughter, hands all over bodies to steady themselves and also because Kent is going to die if his hands ever leave Jack’s body ever again. They open doors until they find a bedroom and Kent’s mouth is at Jack’s neck before they even lock the door behind them because it was taking too long. He could burst, just swell up and rip apart along his joints, he’s never felt so right and good and kissing girls is nice but it’s never felt like this because girls don’t pick him up and toss him onto the bed like that, like he’s being played with. Kent wants to be Jack’s chew-toy.

Jack crashes down on top of him and sinks his teeth into Kent’s bottom lip. Kent whimpers and bucks his hips upwards, rubbing himself against the bulge in Jack’s jeans, shuddering when Jack moans into his mouth and chases with his tongue down, down until they’re more each other than themselves. There’s a hand at Kent’s pants but both his own hands are on Jack’s ass, and he takes a split second to appreciate the fact that it’s _Zimms_ , Zimms touching him and making him shudder against the mattress and yanking clothing away to have his hand wrapped right around Kent’s cock, tugging furiously and _Jesus fucking Christ_ Kent is coming before he knows what to do about it, pulsing onto his stomach and Jack’s palm, marking him with it, clamping his teeth down around curses and guttural sounds he’s never made before in his life.

Jack stares at the mess on his hand, silent and wide-eyed and reverent. He looks up at Kent in a daze and slides two fingers into his mouth, eyes squeezing shut when the taste hits his tongue. His lips are cherry red and swollen from the kissing and now there’s come on his chin from where his hand dragged away. Kent wants to cry it’s so beautiful.

 

It’s July 4th, 2008, late afternoon. Kent is straddled on top of Jack, kissing him deep and slow. Jack’s hair falls down in his face and Kent brushes it away absentmindedly, like he does every day.

“Hey, Kenny, what do you want for your birthday?” Jack asks when they pull apart for air. His voice is breathy and light and Kent wonders if they’re in love.

“You, Zimms.” It’ll always be his answer. He doesn’t know what else anyone could want.

Jack chuckles, “Okay.”

They go to one of those mysterious, wildly unsafe pop-up amusement parks. Jack buys Kent ice-cream and wins him a stuffed animal playing the ring toss game. When they walk their shoulders touch and it makes everything feel a little warmer; Kent leans into the contact and Jack doesn’t seem to care that people might see. They ride the rickety rollercoasters and Kent screams and holds Jack’s hand even though he isn’t afraid. He just likes that they both feel alive.

It’s hours before they wander home, laughing and covered in powdered sugar because there’d been an incident with the funnel cake. Kent blames Jack and Jack blames Kent but it’s the good kind of fight, because it ends with Kent licking the sugar off Jack’s lips while Jack slides between his thighs.

 

It’s July 4th, 2009, with the stars already out. Kent is sitting at the edge of the bed, too afraid to move any closer. Jack’s hair is in his face and Kent can’t bring himself to brush it away.

“Hey, Kenny, what do you want for your birthday?” Jack’s voice is bitter and sarcastic and it isn’t a good joke.

“You, Zimms,” Kent chokes, his voice cracking a million different ways across the words. _Always you_.

Jack whispers, “Okay.”

They watch the fireworks from the rehab center window. Jack doesn’t say anything when Kent cries.


End file.
